Magicka: Aftershock
by Nicolasp
Summary: A firsthand look at the events leading up to the wizard wars and the subsequent fall of the Order of Magick. First story ever so don't be too harsh. Written because there were no stories in the Magicka category. Note: This is based on the game franchise Magicka by Paradox Interactive, not another game that may go under the same name. The category Magicka(Paradox) should be made.
1. Chapter 1

Rolif ran through the forest as quickly as his robe would allow. He had been followed from Havindr by an anonymous team of wizards. Their intentions were unknown, but he was not one to stick around and find out. The path he was following was overgrown by weeds and saplings for the most part, but the difference between the once relatively well kept road and the fully grown trees was enough to navigate through the wilderness. Fornskugur Forest was an ancient wood, once crawling with insects, small wildlife, and some more… unpleasant residents, including trolls, goblins, and if the tales are to be believed, a very large snake. Currently, however, little fauna could be found anywhere in the forest, or for that matter, much of Midgard, after the Wizard Wars had taken their toll on the land. The conflicted mages had constructed tens, if not hundreds of structures throughout the land, referred to by enchanters as 'spawn points' a supposed upgrade to the standard Tuonetian checkpoint design. Regardless of names and originality, the spawn points certainly worked, but at the expense of the forest. They fed off the life force of the animals, using that to revive the wizards continuously until almost all life in the area was extinguished. Now, even years after it's end, animal life in the forest had yet to even begin recovering. As Rolif mused upon the history of the circles, he had the bad luck to trip on one. Under the effects of the Haste magick, he was sent flying a dozen meters, getting back up and dusting himself off. Rolif had stumbled upon yet another arena, and it seemed that it could be his doom. His pursuers stopped, and gathered around him. He counted four in total, far outnumbering him. He was a skilled wizard warrior, one of the best, and one of the few survivors, but during the wars he always made sure to march with another ally, and here, he would not last long. His death inevitable, Rolif could only decide to give them one helluva fight. Quickly, he brought up his staff, distinguished from the classical crescent moon catcher by being accentuated by four spikes, a larger crescent, and a coiled binding piece. He conjured several elements in quick procession, summoning the combination for a beam of fiery death, channeling it in the direction of the foremost wizard, who was walking in his direction. Caught by surprise, the enemy mage was hit for merely a second before one of his allies blocked it with a hasty shield, and the fire was extinguished by a third wizard. The beam ricocheted off the shield at a direct angle, coming back in Rolifs direction. He immediately canceled the beam, and conjured an icy boulder, aimed and released in the direction of the fourth wizard that as of the moment had not cast a spell. He seemed to be the most difficult target, as he immediately raised a defensive rock wall. Rolif was unimpressed, channeling a steam spray that shredded the barrier. charging a storm of pure icicles, releasing them while his allies conjured a crossed beam. Raising a barrier of fiery lightning, Rolif canceled out the icicles and created a dome shield, just as the three wizards combined their steamy lightning lasers of death. The barrier held, but the beam reflected at an angle and did not impact the trio. Teleporting, the fourth wizard channeled a beam of his own around the edge of the shield, penetrating Rolifs defenses. thinking through the pain, Rolif managed to teleport to his left, shooting a healing beam of water into the nexus of the stream cross, Creating an elemental explosion that knocked himself off his feet, and vaporized the three mages. It was their fault for crossing so many streams so close to themselves. He had assumed that his pursuers would at least have known the basic principles of combat against another mage, but they were more inexperienced than he believed. His enemies should have known better than to put mere novices on his trail. Only the fourth wizard remained, who was at that moment drawing his sword, which he enchanted with fire, and swung. Rolif barely managed to bring his blade up in a block, the heat from the blade close to his face. Rolif channeled the element of frost into his sword, counteracting his enemy in an explosive manner, sending both combatants flying. His enemy shrugged off the explosion, having conjured stone armor while airborne. Rolif did not have that advantage, and his staff had been knocked out of his hand. Defenseless, Rolif attempted to run away, but his enemy conjured Haste and had tackled him within moments. Lying pinned down on the forest floor, Rolif had no hope of escape, and spat at his opponent, " Just kill me already, it will save me some pain!" Instead of ending Rolif's life however, the enemy mage got up, and pulled back his hood. Shocked, Rolif exclaimed, " What?! You?!" met by his opponents, " Yeah, me" and a punch to the face.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Twenty years ago**_

In the breakfast hall of Alderheim castle, four classmates were preparing for their Magick class; well, preparing the Alderheimian way. One, robed in yellow, was twirling his staff like a baton, pointing it at invisible enemies as he mentally revised the combinations for the most potent spells and the few Magicks that he knew. He was named Trivsel, and was easily the most brash and headstrong of the group. Another, garbed in blue and cramming from a textbook, was referred to as Blaogid. The newest student, even among the first years, he had arrived halfway through the year, and as such was perpetually behind in tasks and knowledge of spells. The third wizard, the only female, robed in green was Natugla, though everybody referred to her as Nat. She was a studious, no-nonsense figure, and above all else, pursued knowledge intensely. The fourth wizard, donning a scarlet robe was Lysandus, grudgingly agreed by his instructors and classmates to be the most talented in the practical uses of magic, primarily in combat.

If the group had a leader, it would have been him, as the wizard most experienced in vaporizing things would usually be. They all sat at a table discussing topics of magickal interest; well, Nat and Lysandus would be discussing, while Blaogid would be hard pressed to follow the conversation, and Trivsel simply could not be bothered. He had far too much on his plate at the moment; literally as the dish was piled sky high with sausages and cheese, whether melted, roasted, blue, cheddar, crispy, greasy, or all at the same time ( a benefit of magickal Alderheim cuisine), which held his attention far more efficiently than a conversation ever could.

Blaogid, on the other hand, was heavily interested in the conversation, but he had difficulty understanding many of the more complex terms used by the other first years, and there was little he could do to surprise his friends. His strength however, came from outside the magickal studies, in the form of charisma. Though not as advanced as his colleagues, he was by no means an idiot, and could talk just about anyone into taking actions they ordinarily would never consider. His talent turned him into Alderheims one-stop resource for settling arguments, bailing fellow students out of trouble, and occasionally convincing a teacher to lend Nat a magick tome. Considering his natural talents, Blaogid, had gone out of his way to learn the Charm magick, which he had been trying to understand for the last month, although he had gotten nowhere with it. It was this tome that he was poring over on the table at the moment, as the moose head pinned to the wall above the door began to grunt loudly signalling the end of breakfast and the beginning of classes. Trivsel, only halfway through his plate of sausages and cheese, decided to dispose of the food in a flaming manner, turning to ash in moments. The group collectively got off their seats, and left for their class. Some of the older students used Haste to get to their classes faster, but the four friends had yet to learn that magick. Instead, they conformed themselves with regular walking pace, and reached their class within a few minutes.

Their instructor was Vlad, the senior instructor of Alderheim, and teacher of wizard history; a pale, egotistical not-a-vampire that seemed to have been present at every major event in the past… well, no one knew how long. The timeline was not very well understood in Midgard, even by historians. Still, Vlad gave very detailed descriptions of many famous occurrences, from Alucarts attack on Elwenhus, to the defeat of Grimnir, even the awakening of Cthulhu. While certainly fascinating stories, they got old very quickly. " And so my dear students, is how Grimnir was defeated by a noble and ancient wizard of great power! And his one to four sidekicks." he explained in his deep drawl, " What?! No! I am not a vampire, I just spent my time as a student here studying, instead of going to parties and eating sausages" he explained.

" By Alder, when will it end" whined Trivsel just a bit too loudly.

Vlad's head snapped quickly in Trivsels direction, and noticing this Trivsel continued,

" Well it isn't very practical. We just hear the same stories all over again, with nothing new added, and nobody learns anything that could help us".

Vlad seemed to have been pushed over the edge this time. " Well tell me young one, if you happen to come across a dark wizard of Grimnirs order, what will you do? Would you try to destroy him with stones and lightning? Fire and ice? I am giving you valuable information about past events so that you do not repeat past mistakes! This luxury was unavailable to your predecessors, and many died because of it!"

Trivsel did not back down from the verbal joust, and began shouting himself,

" Except that we never learn that! The 'valuable information' you so like to talk about is the same that any two-crown storyweaver in a tavern can retell to anyone who asks, and in a much more interesting way!"

This was a low blow to Vlad, who prided himself on being the most interesting person in a room sat in silence for several seconds, which became minutes, and during that time, neither looked away from the other. Eventually, the moose grunted, and the class left for magical practice.

Vlad spoke dryly, "Class. Dismissed" and was left in a silent room where he meditated on his memories.


End file.
